sentiment had been born within him--a sentiment to which he
had been a stranger all his hard life--friendship.
He felt friendship for Theriere! It was unthinkable, and yet
the mucker knew that it was so. Painfully he crawled over to
the Frenchman's side.
"Theriere!" he whispered in the man's ear.
The officer turned his head wearily.
"Do youse know me, old pal?" asked the mucker, and
Barbara Harding knew from the man's voice that there were
tears in his eyes; but what she did not know was that they
welled there in response to the words the mucker had just
spoken--the nearest approach to words of endearment that
ever had passed his lips.
Theriere reached up and took Byrne's hand. It was evident
that he too had noted the unusual quality of the mucker's
voice.
"Yes, old man," he said very faintly, and then "water,
please."
Barbara Harding brought him a drink, holding his head
against her knee while he drank. The cool liquid seemed to
give him new strength for presently he spoke, quite strongly.
"I'm going, Byrne," he said; "but before I go I want to tell
you that of all the brave men I ever have known I have
learned within the past few days to believe that you are the
bravest. A week ago I thought you were a coward--I ask
your forgiveness."
"Ferget it," whispered Byrne, "fer a week ago I guess I
was a coward. Dere seems to be more'n one kind o' nerve--
I'm jest a-learnin' of the right kind, I guess."
"And, Byrne," continued Theriere, "don't forget what I
asked of you before we tossed up to see which should enter
Oda Yorimoto's house."
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